Nine Crimes
by Isolde Necrophilia
Summary: "Keep your eyes on Sapphire. There's more to her than meets the eye." - Astrid delivered the tip to Delvin six years ago when Sapphire mysteriously joined the Thieves Guild, but it isn't until Thrynn dies in a suspicious accident and Amadeus delivers a letter written by Glover Mallory to her that they realize she has an alternative agenda to avenge her innocence. - Sapphire/Glover


**Title : **Nine Crimes  
**Chapter : CHAPTER I **(I/XII) – ten pages, 4,752 words  
**Rating : **T – rating may upgrade in future chapters.**  
Summary : **"Keep your eyes on Sapphire. There's more to her than meets the eye." - Astrid delivered the tip to Delvin six years ago when Sapphire mysteriously joined the Thieves Guild, but it isn't until Thrynn dies in a suspicious accident and Amadeus delivers an honest letter written by Glover Mallory that the Guild realizes she has an alternative agenda to avenge her innocence.  
**Pairing(s) : **Sapphire/Glover, Delvin/Vex, Tonilia/Vekel, etc. – most pairings will be cannon. **  
A/N (PLEASE READ) : **To begin, I want to warn everyone that this will contain mature themes, particularly **incest and rape**. There will only be one rape scene, although the subject will continuously be brought up, for the main character (Sapphire) is trying to find closure in the horrors done to her as a child. Furthermore, I will be exploring incest and what it means. Obviously you don't have to agree with it, but in order to enjoy this fic, I suggest you keep an open mind.

I want to thank kiramackey for being an amazing, supportive individual. She's leant me thousands of ideas, read through all seven of my drafts, and coached me to be patient with this project. I have a knack to type about a thousand words and post without thoroughly editing or even considering expanding, as my followers know, and so without her this would be complete garbage and probably discarded within two days. She's a brilliant writer and mentor and probably my favorite person in the world. Thank you again, doll.

_Also_, I'd like to clarify that Sapphire was a member of the Dark Brotherhood before joining the Thieves Guild. It was kiramackey's headcannon and was clarified in the Official Skyrim Guide.

* * *

**CHAPTER I  
**_"Break my body, hold my bones, hold my bones."_

**Fredas, approximately 9:20 PM, 18****th**** of Morning Star. 4E 203**

Thrynn and his sister-in-crime, Sapphire, were assigned to rob a Khajiit caravan north-west of Riften before the caravan reached the city's perimeters; the traveling merchants were rumored to be carrying plenty of fine jewels, exotic herbs, and coin – which meant bad news for Tonilia's competition. The Redguard explicitly requested the job be handled neatly (_"absolutely __**no**__ exceptions!"_), but the former bandit felt uneasy unless he filled his quiver with arrows and smeared crushed petals beneath his eyes in two thick, parallel lines. Meaty and gruff, Thrynn was more accustomed to throwing fists than lurking in the shadows. He supposed that was why Brynjolf insisted Sapphire tag along; she was still pretty new to the Guild, so he hadn't really gotten to know her, but he did notice that she was quiet enough and had a tendency to disappear when others weren't lookin'. So that was fine by him.

The thieves departed Riften on horseback at noon and trekked the highway along the Treva River until the sun was secreted by Oblivion. Sapphire spotted the caravan first. A mile or two off the highway, a fierce flame lit the underbrush of the mountains bordering the Rift and the Falkreath Hold. Thrynn steadied his mare but held her reigns firmly in his calloused hands.

His voice was hoarse and nasally as he spoke for the first time since the duo began their journey, "People come through here all the time. What makes you so sure it's them?"

The long-legged, stoic Nord had already dismounted her stallion and was leading him to a pine tree. "You of all people are asking me that question?" she snapped. "I thought an _experienced bandit_ like you would know that traffic slows down around this time of year. Crops are dead. Heifers give birth in the Spring. Only the rich can afford to travel, and the rich don't make pit-stops to tell stories around a bonfire."

Thrynn followed her lead. "I guess you're right."

Sapphire's brow curled like she was expecting more, but when the former bandit said nothing and roped his mare's reigns around a trunk instead, she exhaled. "I can smell the skooma already. Can't you?"

_No, not really. _Thrynn brushed his thumb against the hilt of his dagger before starting the hike up the mountainside. He wasn't sure what to make of her before, but now he was a little intimidated by her seemingly unpredictable nature and the way her eyes gleamed with anticipation – like a junkie sprinkling her pipe. She was pretty into this whole emptyin' wagons thing, he guessed. "So. How are we gonna to do this? Wait 'til they're sleeping?"

Sapphire hummed and stepped ahead of him. "Something like that."

Maybe she _was_ a junkie eager for the next fix.

"Could you be a little more specific?" Thrynn grunted.

They approached a clearing against the side of the mountain; Sapphire crouched behind some brush and waved for him to come closer. "Just follow my lead. I've done this _many_ times."

"Okay." The thief cautiously approached the woman; visibility was diminished in the shadow, and he didn't want to alarm the Khajiit by snapping a branch beneath his boots. When he was perched alongside her, he narrowed his beady eyes to evaluate what they were up against. Four adult-sized felines sat and extended their hands to the fire that cast its light against a flat boulder; two were female, the other two male, and a three yards from the fire were four wagons with one horse. Beds were already flattened between the merchandise and the pit; it wouldn't be terribly long before he could expect them to retire, but he knew it would be difficult to perform the assignment because of the camp's arrangement.

Thrynn cast a glance at Sapphire for further instruction and was startled to see she had a bow in hand and was reaching into her quiver for an arrow. "What are you doing?" he hissed. "We're not supposed to hurt anyone."

Her bicep swelled as she drew the arrow. Her voice was cool, like satin, "You wouldn't be familiar with that, now would you?"

Then, before he could say any more, she released the arrow. It struck the backside of one of the male's skulls. He eased forward, legs still crossed, and arms protruding from their shoulders like he was encumbered by a passionate prayer. The other male had just turned his head, perhaps to ask the other what was wrong, when another one of Sapphire's arrows fatally punctured the upper-left side of his chest. Straight to the heart.

"What are you doing?" Thrynn demanded, reaching for his own string. The thief replaced her bow in favor of two enchanted daggers.

"Stay here," she commanded before stepping into the light. The two remaining Khajiit armed themselves with nimble swords before scurrying to meet Sapphire –

_Slash, slash. Slash, slash._

The fine line of his lips curled as the bitch sheathed her weapons; Sapphire was pretty tough, and he supposed he really admired her for doing what his own instincts had told him to do. Still, he was a little frustrated with her lacking ethics – they were in for one hell of a lecture.

Sapphire noticed his hesitation.

"Look, I'm just doing my job," she said smugly, crossing her arms over her chest. "Tonilia chose _us_ for a reason. She'll say she's disappointed, but it's all presentation. Doesn't want to seem like the bad guy around the Flagon. Not that any of that really matters – she's not actually a member of the Guild, so she shouldn't be expected to abide by our rules. Don't you agree?"

"I guess," Thrynn shrugged and stepped from behind the brush.

"Alright, then," Sapphire's arms relaxed. She stepped over one of the bodies to examine the treasure amongst the wagons and pocketed several bags of gold and two gems for which she was named. Thrynn stepped forward to follow her lead, but she slid between him and the loot before he could touch a septim.

"Look, I need you to shoot me."

The former bandit kneaded his brows together. "What?"

"I need you to shoot me with an arrow right _here_," she pointed to the outside of her thigh. "When we return, I'll say they shot me, and we had to defend ourselves. It should heal within a couple of weeks. It's alright – just do it."

Thrynn hesitated. His morals were questionable at best, but he swore he would never harm neither woman nor child – nor partner. "I don't know," he grunted. ". . .can't you just shoot _me_?"

Sapphire shook her head. "It has to be me."

He stared at her for a long, hard minute before shaking his head. It didn't feel right.

"Fine. I'll shoot you, then – but if anything goes wrong, it's your fault." Thrynn agreed and Sapphire drew her bow, readied an arrow, and exhaled.

He had been expecting the arrow to puncture his thigh, but instead it drove through his knee. The large Nord crumbled to the ground, his hands hovering over the thread of feathers adorning the butt of the tool. "You bitch," he growled, pressing the face of Nirn with his fist. "You fuckin' missed!"

"Large men make me nervous," she explained coolly, like she had been aiming for his joint the entire time. "The last time I murdered a bandit, I slit his throat while he slept. I suppose I could have seduced you, exhausted you and done the same, but I don't even want to _touch_ you."

Thrynn, white-faced, tipped his chin up. "What?"

An arrow struck his chest.

Sapphire's jaw slacked at an angle to speak, but when no words surfaced, she clenched her jaw and readied more ammo.

Thrynn, trembling, stumbled onto his feet but was struck one final time between his eyes. His neck snapped back and he collapsed, but nothing hurt and everything became very, very, very dark.

* * *

**Fredas, approximately 10:00 PM, 18****th**** of Morning Star. 4E 203**

To Sapphire, Thrynn was a wolf that had been exiled from the pack and had no other choice but to gorge her livestock. Surely he was a beautiful creature that had some use somewhere, but the interaction between them had become something of life or death. She was his provider, his host; without her, he could not survive and yet if she tolerated him, she herself would starve. He had an animalistic brain; he did not acknowledge himself as a driving force and thus could not be expected to hunt game elsewhere. And she is a farmer's daughter, a daughter who was expected to bleed the pigs when she was four years old and bathe in their shit because it was more sanitary than the irrigation ditches that crossed through her village. Nay, she was not a huntress; she could not consider the color or soft texture of Thrynn's fur as she penetrated him with arrows. She had to do him away.

Yet she was not as cold-hearted as she perhaps appeared, for she did not admire the carnage pooled at her feet as her brothers and sisters do. Her colossal shadow lingered against the cliff's face long enough for her to plant sooty gems on the bodies and ensure the loot had not been overlooked; then, (childishly) fearing a clan of men hidden behind the brush, Sapphire sprinted down the mountainside to where her steed awaited. She feared the dark and the monsters that lurked within the wilds, but she feared the men more, for while she could trust the roads to be mostly barren of ferocious creatures, she knew a clan could be anywhere awaiting a young maiden. Her heart raced against the horse's hooves and all the while she could not decide whether to dig her heel into his ass or ease on the reigns lest he sprain an ankle and delay their journey.

But alas they did spot the friendly torch of a guardsman overlooking the pass. Sapphire tugged the reins in her sweaty palms until he came to a stop. Then, reaching inside her quiver, she withdrew an arrow and positioned the head against her thigh. The deaths of the caravan team would not be in vain, no; they died so that justice could be served, and it would only be so if her fellow Guildsmen believed there was no other way but to sacrifice Thrynn. The Nord inhaled, thrust the arrow, and exhaled. Simple and bloody. Her trembling hands grasped the wood and pulled toward her face until the hilt of the arrowhead resisted against the backside of her leg; satisfied, she slapped the steed's ass to gallop to Riften's main gate, where a groggy Redguard greeted her beside the stables.

"_You're _the one I had to get up for?" he croaked, suddenly reluctant to perform his menial duties when the light revealed her identity.

She lifted her injured leg over the saddle and slid off, nearly toppling over when her boots hit the ground. "Shadr," she hissed, "I will not hesitate to cut your godsdamned throat."

Shadr blinked the sleep out of his fearful eyes. "O-okay, okay. Sorry, Sapphire. . ."

Sapphire's eyes were hotter than dragonfire. The stable boy was eager for safety so he led the horse into the stables and searched a bucket to brush the sweat, dust, and blood from its body.

The thief groaned and limped to the gates. Her thigh was swelling and the gushing wound bound her leathers to her skin – not a very _comfortable_ combination. One of the two guards chatting idly beside the main gate recognized her outfit and quickly stepped forward to aid her. "What in the Divines happened to you?" he asked with a thick accent. "And where's the other one?"

"I. . .I don't want to talk about it," Sapphire admitted softly. Cue the chorus, the narrator, the naked actors.

The man – whatever his name was, she couldn't remember and didn't care anyway – led her inside the city. He insisted she visit the apothecary to heal the wound that would likely become infected, but she refused; she couldn't return to the Guild with a dead associate and nothing to prove for it, after all. So he aided her along the graveyard, down the ladder secreted by a hollow tomb, and sat her on one of the beds before disappearing in time for Rune to stir.

"Sapphire? How'd the job go – oh, what happened? Are you alright?" the Imperial scratched the scuff around his chin. A frown settled on his lips; he seemed to be genuinely concerned, and this warmed Sapphire's heart. She squeezed her thigh above the wound to try to ease the throbbing and shook her head as if to nod off the shock.

"How does it look like it went?" she retorted dryly.

Rune's brows furrowed. "I'll grab Bryn, – he should be in the Flagon. I'm sure he knows of a few things lying around here that'll help with the bleeding."

Sapphire nodded. She didn't particularly enjoy feigning emotion for long periods of time and was eager to get it over with. As Rune hurried to his feet, he turned on his heel and watched her, searched her, finding what it was he sought but was too human to acknowledge it.

"What?" she asked through her bared teeth.

"Thrynn?"

The Nord lowered her head. "No."

"Oh. . .that poor bastard," Rune murmured before sprinting across the Cistern and through the not-so-secret passageway connecting the Flagon. Sapphire busied herself by tampering with the weapon penetrating her leg. Arrows were bastards to remove, especially if they were left inside the wound for more than a few minutes. The body naturally tries to heal itself and squeeze the foreign object out, but it always fails and simply makes the process much more agonizing. She barely lifted her clammy head when Rune returned with more than half the Guild at his back.

Tonilia pushed past him. "What happened!?" she demanded.

"What do you _think_ happened?"

"Clean. What happened to getting the job done _clean_? My ass is on the line!" The Redguard spat. "I should have known _you_ would muck up –"

Sapphire's eyes became as dark as a summer's storm. She did not have an experience squabbling with Tonilia; she never had reason to, and never sought one. After all, she was one of the Guild's remaining resources for coin – yet that was forgotten now, and the young woman's instincts drove her to match the other's viciousness. "Look, I did _nothing_ wrong. They were waiting for us when we arrived and we had to defend ourselves. There's nothing more to say, so _get out of my face_."

Tonilia's nostrils flared. "Where's the loot?"

"Up your ass."

Vekel seized Tonilia's wrist before she could swung her fist. Brynjolf utilized his body as a barrier between the two women; his face was aged with a frown, but a pasture lingered in his eyes. That small hint of humanity was what made him second-in-command instead of Guildmaster and why he failed presently in Mercer Frey's absence. "Hand over the goods, lass. You know the rules – if you can't keep the job clean, you don't get your cut."

A look of betrayal crossed Sapphire's features. Despite how friendly one becomes with these goddamn sewer rats, it call boiled down to coin. She unlatched a coin purse soiled in blood and launched it at Tonilia's head; it was only a small fraction of the valuables she took, but underhandedly rebelling did not satisfy her temper –she could have died, for all they knew! Did she not deserve her share? "If you want the rest of it, you drag your ass back there yourself."

"Bitch," Tonilia gritted through her teeth. "I should take that arrow and drive it through your skull."

"Calm down, Ton," Brynjolf said, sounding exasperated. "You're not making the matter any better."

"She's not bringing in her share. She _never_ has." Tonilia yanked her arm out of her lover's grasp. "She's driving us under, Bryn, and you're letting her for a _good night's sleep_. We'd have more coin in our pockets and Thrynn would be alive if you just bought a whore."

"Oi, that's enough," Delvin frowned. "Why don't you go back to the Flagon and have your, uh. . . lovin' friend pour you a drink?"

She glared at the balding Breton but did not protest.

Sapphire pushed several strands of chestnut-brown hair away from her face. "Can someone get this arrow out of my leg? Or are you all going to let me die as well?"

Brynjolf remembered the primary crisis and secreted his flushed ears by breaking the feathered ass of the arrow before tearing the thing out of her leg completely. She bunched the sheets under her weight with her fists but otherwise made not a sound, an accomplishment she had successfully perfected at the ripe age of fourteen.

The remaining members settled on the adjacent seats or floor except Niruin, whose vulnerability to boredom drove him to the practice room. The others' expressions were flat, uncertain. Cynric, posed comfortably across Sapphire, broke the silence. "So, uh. . .not meaning to pry or anything, but what happened? I mean, with Thrynn and all."

"There were four of them," Sapphire began; her caustic tongue was somewhat delayed, fatigued. "We arrived at their camp and they were nowhere to be seen, so Thrynn went to check their wagons and,. . .I guess they knew we were coming because they shot him – three times – and. . . look, I'm really tired, okay?"

"If the camp was empty, he should have known it was a set-up," Vex spoke. She was leaning against the wall separating Sapphire's bed from the fire pit and had gone mostly unnoticed until then. "You should have known, too."

Vex made others uneasy and Sapphire was not an exception. The aging yet aesthetic Imperial watched Sapphire with askance and spoke to her as she might an insect. A fleeting look from the woman disparaged Sapphire more than all the belittling gossip culminated at the Bee and Barb. Her gloved hand pressed against the now exposed wound.

"By the time I realized that, it was too late," she tried to explain. "I was telling him to come back when they shot the first arrow."

Vex didn't seem to hear her. "And how was it _you_ escaped and _he_ did not? If they were capable of taking on _Thrynn_, then _you _shouldn't have had a chance."

Sapphire applied more pressure to her thigh. "They took him by surprise. I was behind him – they didn't see me. I had an advantage."

Vex uncrossed her arms and pushed herself forward. "And why was it that you were armed, hmn? If you didn't expect a fight?"

Delvin answered for the young woman whose caramel-kissed skin flared from Vex's interrogations. "I take me dagger everywhere I go. Never know when some bloke'll try 'n rob me, 'specially 'round these parts. I say she was in right for doin' what she did. It was a small mistake, but I can't say I wouldn't've made it me'self. In fact, when I was 'bout her age, I _did_. Spent a year with a Brotherhood to avoid bein' caught, an' I can't say I regret it one bit. Gallus ripped me arse, but not the way you an' Ton are to our li'ohl Sapphire here."

"I agree with Delvin," said Rune, who sat perched against the bed Cynric occupied with his knees leveled against his chest. "And I think we're all shocked to hear about Thrynn. He was a pretty likable guy, I'd say. Bryn, when did you say Mercer would be back? I wouldn't mind making the funeral arrangements."

Brynjolf was distant as he answered, "A few weeks, maybe a few months. I'll send 'im a message. It's been awhile since the Guild hosted somethin' like this."

Rune nodded. "I'll see if I can get in contact with some of his associates. I think his mum's alive somewhere, isn't she?"

No one really knew.

"Well, if we're done here, I'm going to get a few drinks myself. I _need_ them," Vex announced, closing the meeting. Many of the others agreed and followed her to the Flagon; Rune decided to try to finish resting, leaving Brynjolf and Vipir at Sapphire's bedside.

"We're going to have to wrap that wound of yours if you want it to heal properly, lass," said the redheaded Nord, half-examining the puffed, oozing hole.

Vipir, who had shockingly managed to withhold his comments throughout the evening, adjusted the bracer on his left wrist. "I'll help the lady, Bryn. Shouldn't you be writing that letter to Mercer?"

Sapphire's chest tightened. Although she doubted Brynjolf as a leader, she did favor his company. They shared a strange friendship consisting of flesh and an extraordinary degree of _trust_, a feature she offered to a spare few; yet it wasn't one hundred percent mutual for she often manipulated the detractor and shared information about herself only when he teased her with the warmth of his body. But nevertheless she would rather have _him_ than Vipir, a man whose handsome qualities would not be overlooked if it wasn't for his godsdamned _mouth_. He was as short-tempered as she but not as clever, thus resorting to unflattering name-calling each time she outwitted him.

"No," Sapphire stated dryly. "It can wait."

Brynjolf appeared perplexed. He knew there was a rift between the duo, but he underestimated how serious it was; to Brynjolf, Sapphire and Vipir's bickering matched Delvin's attempts to bed Vex. She might have had a nasty mouth, but everyone besides Vex knew she would never lay a finger on the old crodger. Brynjolf had no idea what Sapphire was capable of; even if he did, he was too gullible, too intoxicated to acknowledge it.

"Aye, you're right," he agreed with the other male. "The sooner the better. I have a potion in my 'stand you should use an' there should be some extra wraps lyin' around. You can dress 'er in the room across the Flagon, if you'd like."

Sapphire's face aped Thrynn's – prior to his death, of course. "Look, I'll just do it myself!"

Vipir's lips twisted. "I wouldn't mind watching that."

"No, you wouldn't because that's all you've ever done."

"Maybe if you stopped being such a dyke and let me show you a good time. . ."

Brynjolf's eyes rolled. "I do more babysittin' than anythin' else around here. Do I have to hold your hands?"

"Maybe to keep me from strangling him," she hissed. Then, lifting herself onto her feet with the support of the bed frame, she eased her weight onto her injured leg. It ached. It was remarkably _weak_. If she hadn't been stronger than ten Nordic men, she wouldn't have been able to make it across the Cistern, but she was a determined and strong-willed individual – at least that was what she convinced herself. Brynjolf tagged along briefly before she drove him away with a glare, but Vipir, _stupid_ Vipir, stayed at her side; his hand brushed the small of her back and lowered with each step. By the time Sapphire discovered where the linen was stashed and found a friendly-looking vial, his arm was fastened around her hips. She eased onto Mercer's bed, the only mattress softened with feathers and mammoth fur. It felt like Sovngarde.

"You can leave now," she informed him.

Vipir was Sapphire's only contestant within the Guild, for he was tall like she, but angular and slim where most of their race bulged. He was easy on his feet and, like her, was more accustomed to the shadows than hand-to-hand combat. Yet as mentioned previously, Sapphire had an advantage for she was much more cunning – yet as she laid, her thigh drooling with puss, her thoughts circled for she feared he knew had an advantage over her lame body.

"But this is the best part," Vipir crooned, leaning a knee onto the bed. His hands, knotted with veins pulsing as violently as a river, seized the tie secured around her waist.

The woman struggled to prevent her heart from thrashing wildly in her chest. Her fingers coiled the bracers he wore and held them in vain; his strength yielded in his arms and hers in her legs. He yanked the leathers down to her knees, flinging her onto the spine that arched as the wound reopened for the third time.

"Vipir," her voice wavered, "don't do this."

And just like a man, he ignored her pleas. "Keep talking like that, you little harlot; the hard-to-get thing _really _turns me on."

Sapphire gave up on her futile attempt at controlling his arms and reached for her dagger pocketed in a strap around her chest. Vipir was much quicker, however; in a sweeping motion, he pinned her wrists above her head and pressed his leg onto hers, purposely angling his shin into her thigh. She gasped and withered beneath him, making sharp, but blunt movements to pull herself out from below him; he mistook her jerks and groans to be that of pleasure, and forced two digits between her clenched thighs.

And pain stopped registering. The wound, the tearing, his musk – it was far away from her now. Her cheek pressed against the wool and pursed the plump flesh of her lips; her eyes drooped, lashes tangled. Her legs parted when he nudged them, and her body undulated to the rhythm of his thrusts, his farm animal name-calling.

"_It's good, ain't it, little girl? Heh. You ain't seen nothin' yet, Chief'll treat you right. . ."_

"_Child, you're a beauty."_

Vipir's seed filled her the way vomit might and the tip of his member coughed a thin line across her pelvis. He tucked himself into his trousers and examined her, a frown dragging the thin goatee lining his mouth. "What? Didn't you like it?"

Sapphire tested her wrists, expecting them to be bound and was quite confused when they were not. She lifted herself, blinking, as a child might when it has risen from a long rest induced by sickness. She looked to Vipir, then her flushed skin. "I'm. . .surprised," she spoke a thousand worlds away.

The male replaced his body with the wrappings and vial. "But it was good."

She stared at the items blankly. The white linen reminded her of the rags she bathed herself with at the farm, so she used it to wipe the semen from her skin but a sudden, childish modesty encumbered her and she hesitated to clean her loins. She examined the puncture that scalded fiercely beneath her touch. Right,. . .right.

"Meet me in the practice room at three," she instructed, raising her glazed hues to meet his. "And I'll let you know."

Vipir's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "Second round, aye? I'll be waiting."

Sapphire breathed. What more could she do? No longer did the idea of this infection taking her very life bother her; nay, she sat, leathers around her knees, thighs gleaming with a man's fluid, broken, blistering, bruised – yet the feeling would return, just as the heat of puncture had, and when it did, she would wrap it the only way she knew how.

"Damn it," she whispered. She couldn't seem to find herself within the wrinkled sheets, the _blood_. She should have screamed, cried – but as she sat, she felt very, very alone and isolated; she saw her dead mother from the corner of her eye and could make out the smell of a smoldering sty. Sapphire leaned forward, groped inside a pocket smashed between the creases of her leggings, and retrieved a single blue gem. It was slightly heavier than other sapphires commonly found and was cut for a queen; when she was young, perhaps four or five years old, she discovered it beneath her mother's night stand. Her mother claimed her father left it there before he became "lost" elsewhere in the wilderness. As Sapphire rotated the gem in her fingers, she was comforted by its smooth, flat surfaces and black corners.

He was out there, somewhere – he had to be.

"Hey, Brynjolf!" the Nord's most recent protégé stepped past the room and into the Cistern. Sapphire clutched the stone and held her breath. "Have you seen Sapphire? I have a letter I, uh. . .should probably deliver to her."


End file.
